October 13 - Finding the Path

There are a few days in the fall when it is almost impossible for me to find my way along the walking path. In summer, the grey walking path is defined by grassy green borders and my white cane can quite easily detect the difference between the hard surface of the asphalt and the softer surface of the dirt or grass. When the autumn leaves fall and cover everything - both path and edges, this contrast disappears.

Usually this phenomenon only lasts for a few days. The wind that has blown the leaves from the branches soon reasserts itself and for the most part, the mounds of leaves are blown away. Still, there is that short period of time when it is difficult to negotiate a safe path through the leafy covering.

Lately, as I walk down by our river walking trails I have been thinking of this and also of how we are all trying to find our way through the days of the pandemic. I know that there are protocols to follow but sometimes the borders of how we are to negotiate our  way become a little fuzzy. Lyle and I are doing our best. I have been trying to think that the way through the days of the virus is much like the leaf strewn days of autumn. It is difficult while we are searching for the path through, but soon the wind of optimism will blow again and the path will be clear once more.

There is a picture with this post. It shows the ground covered with autumn leaves. Under the covering is the path where I usually walk.

 

Sue walking on a leaf covered path

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

September 24 - Comparatively Speaking

This past week I was reading A Better Man by Louise Penny and I came across an interesting statement. She wrote, “It is damaging to compare the pain of one person with the pain of another.” Although the sentence was written for a character in a murder mystery, I thought of the many situations to which the sentiment could apply. One person’s hurt, loss or pain is not lessened when it is compared to the pain, loss or hurt of others.

It has now been more than thirty years ago since the sudden change in my sight, but several things from that time stand out in memory. One of these was the comment of a friend. She suggested that I shouldn’t feel too badly because my sight loss was nothing compared to that of some other people who had managed to cope very well with complete loss of sight. What was my partial vision loss compared to total blindness! While my logical mind accepted this, my friend’s comment was not in the least helpful or comforting in the time of my emotional turmoil and distress.

Then, the other week, a friend told me of her experience on becoming a widow. At the lunch following the funeral service, another widow of several years approached her. This person said that now my friend could be just like her and join the widow’s circle, and wasn’t she glad that she had had so much time with her late husband. The comment did nothing to alleviate the loss and grief that my friend was feeling at the time. It wasn’t at all helpful to compare her loss and grief with the other person’s.

While these two events are specific to the past, they can also highlight how differently many of us are reacting to the present pandemic. Certainly, we are all in this together, but how this same event affects each of us can be quite different. The isolation for some of us might be a cause for depression. Others might be viewing this as a time of reflection. Some may be alone and lonely while others are basking in more quality time with friends or family. The event is the same but one person’s response may well be quite different from that of another.

Perhaps we can all try to be more accepting. Let’s try not to dismiss the feelings and coping strategies of others. Let’s not make comparisons. Maybe we can all just try to be kind to each other.

 

September 12 - Cash or Credit?

In pre-pandemic days, I nearly always kept a small amount of cash on hand. I liked to have a few coins to pay for incidentals - coffee, lunch, or even an occasional chocolate bar. For larger items I might tap my credit card, or very infrequently (usually when Lyle is with me to check) I might try to enter the four-digit PIN number on the credit card machine. These days it seems that nobody wants to touch my actual money, and I am hesitant to reach out to grasp the credit card device.

This new world in which we all find ourselves has pluses and minuses for me. On the plus side, I am saving money. I don't go to a restaurant for lunch anywhere and I haven't been in a grocery store since March. Lyle does all our grocery shopping from a list that I make up for him. In a way this also saves money as he is less inclined to pick up those extra items that are often accumulated in a random shopping trip.

On the negative side to all this, I am wondering where my confidence will be when this pandemic is over. Will I be able to slip back into distinguishing coins and sorting bank notes? (Unless I have one of each, I already find a nickel and a quarter hard to tell apart.)

When the plexiglass barriers come down, I am hopeful that the present barriers to some do my independent living skills will also be removed. Cash or credit? For me in these uncertain times, it appears to be neither. However, I hold to a more positive and optimistic outlook. My piggy bank isn't getting any lighter!

August 27 – Gimli, Manitoba

These past months have been an interesting time for most of us. We have nearly all made changes in our regular routines and patterns of behaviour. For us, one of the changes has been with our travel and holiday plans. We did need to cancel some international travel but on the plus side we managed to see some parts of Canada that we hadn’t seen before. Gimli, Manitoba was one of those unexpected treasures.

After the initial cruel thrust of the coronavirus into our lives, Lyle and I began to sort out some priorities. The first of these was to work out just how we were to see our family while at the same time keeping everyone safe. Camping and outdoor living seemed to be the answer. 

With our Calgary family, we were able to camp in our driveway and eat meals in the backyard. It was a little different with our Winnipeg family. At first out of province visitors were discouraged and out of province campers not accepted. Finally, these restrictions were lifted and in late July we were able to travel to Manitoba for a camping adventure. This is when we spent some time in Gimli.

Our campground was actually about a 20 minutes drive north of Gimli on the shores of Lake Winnipeg. Hnausa Provincial Park was a great spot – campsites weren’t crowded together and washrooms were open. It was also an easy drive to Gimli.

Gimli has an historical beginning. I’m not sure how the Icelandic pioneers made their way to this rather remote spot or how they connected with the original inhabitants of the land. I do know that today there is still a connection with Iceland and its traditions and culture. This is very obvious on the weekend of the Icelandic Festival in August.

The downtown area is contained within a few blocks and is just off the shore of Lake Winnipeg. There is a wide boardwalk along the shore and a dock that stretches out into the lake itself. The town is a bit off the beaten track but also commercial enough to host numerous fast food outlets and even a Tim Hortons.

One of the best things for us was an amazing outdoor swimming pool. The pool was quite spectacular with water slides, a tidal circle, lane swimming and a low diving board. Gimli is really only a small town with small town population so the pool is really quite awesome. I must also add that one of the benefits of the coronavirus was that admission was reduced to 50% capacity and so the pool wasn’t at all crowded.

If you go to Gimli, you should really find your way to the very large Viking statue – or as our grandson called it, the statue of “the Big Man”. The small area is well maintained and the statue itself is impressive. There is a picture with this post with me standing in front of the huge Viking. It should give you some idea of its size –nearly three times taller than I am.

So, Gimli was great and Lyle and I enjoyed our Manitoba camping trip. However, truthfully, the best part was spending time with our Winnipeg family. We would like to repeat this special family time but I guess that we will just have to wait and see what the future holds. 

 

Sue with Gimli's Viking

 

 

 

 

 

August 16 - Bubbles

When our children were young they would sometimes play with soap bubbles. It was an innocent childhood game. We would all sit on the back step and dip a little wire ring into a soapy container. Then, holding the ring up, we would blow through it creating transparent bubbles that floated away on wafts of air. Big bubbles, little bubbles would all drift away towards the back fence.

These days it is the adults who are creating bubbles – not the haphazard bubbles of childhood games but bubbles of people. These are usually created very specifically as a small group of friends or family. The idea is that we should be limiting our contact with people who are outside of the bubble.

Lyle and I are part of three separate bubbles. One small sphere contains a group of friends with whom we indulge in outdoor coffee get togethers.  We are also in a bubble with our daughter and her family and in another bubble with our son and his family. Beyond this, we keep our social distance from other people.

I’m not sure just who is protecting who by this strange arrangement. I think that our children feel that they are protecting us, and by not associating with other people, Lyle and I in turn feel that we are protecting them.

I do feel somewhat isolated in the bubbles of relationships that we have created but at the same time, there is a feeling of intimacy. If the truth were to be told, I much prefer the childhood game of blowing out soapy bubbles in the back yard, but in this crazy uncertain time of COVID, I will have to be satisfied with this new game of bubble creation.

July 19 - Face Masks

In recent days, there has been some debate about legislating the mandatory use of face masks inside public spaces. The proponents of such legislation state that if we were all to wear face masks, this would help prevent the spread of the virus. Those opposed say that this legislation would infringe on their human rights. Others seem to waver between the two extremes. On the one hand, we would be told what to do for our own good. On the other hand, there are those who claim that they live in a free country and nobody can tell them what to do.

So, face masks – yes or no? Face masks can be hot and uncomfortable to wear. They can be inconvenient to take off and put on. It has been said that wearing a face mask can aggravate certain skin conditions.

What I really don’t like about wearing a face mask is that the mask seems to limit my field of vision. To see anything looking down, I need to move my head in that same direction. I am reminded of a young woman I met on my white cane connections walks back in 2012. This woman could only see out of one side of her eyes. It was as if a vertical line was drawn down the middle of both eyes and the left side was a complete blank. Apparently this same condition could affect the sight as if a horizontal line were to be drawn across the middle of the eyes and the field of vision would be only the top half or bottom half of sight. In a temporary way, this is what I feel like when I wear a face mask.

Those are the negatives. What about the positives? There is really only one. It is possible that wearing a face mask might help in preventing the spread of the virus.

Would I wear a face mask? Absolutely! Would I need to wait for legislation in order to put on a face mask inside public spaces? Absolutely not! Knowing that health authorities claim that if we were all to don face masks, we might help in preventing the spread of the virus - that is reason enough for me.

Our daughter had an interesting comment. Face masks really protect others from when we sneeze or breathe out air vapors. Jen wondered if attitudes might change if the face masks actually protected the wearer. Are we such a selfish society that we would need this as an encouragement? I would hope not. Let’s be smart and do all that we can to protect our friends and families.

 

 

 

July 7 - Fifty Shades of Green

Last week we drove our friend, Jo, to an appointment. She sat in the back looking out the car window. It was a beautiful day and one of the few times that Jo had been out on the road since the onset of the pandemic. As we drove along I heard her say, “Have you ever noticed just how many different shades of green there are?”

Truthfully, I had not! When we are whipping along in the car, I am lucky if I can discern a tree from a horse or a large rock. On some days and in some lights, I find it difficult to see the horizon and the difference between land and sky. Colours...well, they belong in the realm of people who have more vision than I do.

I remember at the beginning of my sight loss journey, I was trying to explain to a friend what I could and couldn’t see. My friend asked, “Well, can you see colours?”

“Oh, yes” I replied gamely. “For instance, I can see that you are wearing a green sweater.”

My answer was followed by a brief silence before my friend informed me that the sweater she was wearing was blue, not green at all.

I know now that I do have problems telling the difference between blue and green, or black and brown, or grey and...well, you get the drift! Almost all muted colours are difficult. Perhaps that is why I like primary colours. I like to wear bright vivid colours myself. I also like it when Lyle wears a brightly coloured shirt or sweater so that I have a better chance of picking him out in a crowd.

In spite of all this, I did take Jo’s comment to heart and next time I went walking, I resolved to pay more attention to what I was seeing. As I walked down the river trail, I stopped to look more closely at my surroundings. Indeed, when I looked with greater care, I could see that there was a difference in the shades of green. I could see that there was a difference in the shades of the trees and the green of the grass. I could see that the evergreens were a dark, almost black green. The grass was brighter and in some places almost a lime green, while in other places a muted mossy green. Some of the green leaves on the ground were already tinged with yellow.  I tried walking the same trail at different times of day and noticed that sunlight or shadow also made a difference to what I was seeing.

So, many shades of green – perhaps not fifty, but so many shades that it would be difficult to count them all. My favourite of all the greens was the close up view I had of the milky green of some sage bushes. I like this spot on the trail particularly because of the scent of the sage in the late spring.  

 There is a picture with this post of the milky green of the sage.

Milky green coloured sage bush